


Smut-a-thon 2k19

by shireness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Lockjaw - Freeform, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Sharing a Bed, queen!Emma/librarian!Killian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-26 02:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19759150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shireness/pseuds/shireness
Summary: A collection of my smut prompts from tumblr.





	1. Smut extension: The Queen's Librarian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> profdanglaisstuff asked:
> 
> Smutty prompt: Queen Emma is stressed and needs a break so she challenges Librarian Killian to a drinking game. The drunker they get the less she can keep her hands off him.

It was a terrible idea, right from the start.

The Queen of Misthaven has no business being in one of her kingdom’s dingiest taverns, but here she is, and her loyal librarian right along with her. Even if Emma had insisted that she just needed a break from the never-ending treaty negotiations between her country and Camelot, that no one but him would recognize her anyways thanks to an enchanted cloak, he should have talked her out of it, for her safety and his sanity.

Instead, he’s about to spill his release in his trousers right here on this worn bench, barely concealed by a worn tablecloth. Just how he imagined spending his Wednesday night.

“Let’s play a game,” Emma had said, and like an idiot, he’d agreed. Dice - something he’d been very good at in the Navy. In the Navy, though, he hadn’t been playing against partners who constantly changed the rules so that they both were forced to down more shots, leaving Killian rather more than tipsy and Emma decidedly drunk.

Not that he’s complaining about the way her fingers have started working at the laces to his trousers, searching for treasure underneath.

It had started simply, flirtatiously, with her foot trailing up and down his calf and creeping up to his thigh. Then the laces of her corset top mysteriously loosening to better display her perfectly rounded breasts, all that creamy flesh straining for freedom as she leans against the table with her folded arms right under her bust. That would have been more than enough fo him to gladly sweep her back to the palace to engage in games of a more _private_ nature, but Emma has insisted they stay. Play a few more rounds. Have a few more drinks.

In retrospect, that’s when they should have left. But he’d let Emma cross the slowly emptying bar to procure another bottle of rum (leaning provocatively against the counter, he can’t help but notice as his arousal ratchets up even higher), and hadn’t complained when she joined him on his bench instead of across the table on her own bench against the wall.

Big mistake.

It had been hard to call it a mistake, though, when she’d abandoned all interest in whatever game she was insisting they play in favor of stroking him more and more insistently through the fabric of his pants, coaxing his cock to full mast. Alarm bells sound faintly in the back of Killian’s mind as Emma smirks at him, but he’s too distracted to truly care as her fingers finally met his flesh.

“I think I might be winning,” he barely bites out around the groan just waiting to burst from the back of throat.

That infernal smirk only widens to a full grin, however. “Oh, you think that, do you?” she taunts. How could he ever think his queen was cold? He was clearly an idiot, as right now, it’s so obvious that she’s barely restrained fire. “Let’s see who has the advantage after this.” And before he can even process anything through the haze of alcohol and arousal, she sinks below the tablecloth, tugs his breeches down below his knees, and envelops his cock within her mouth.

Several miracles happen all at once - first, that Killian doesn’t erupt immediately, and second, that he doesn’t moan loudly enough to attract the attention of every patron still left in the place. As it is, he can’t fully suppress his grunt, or the moan that follows it when Emma laughs around his member at his reaction, the vibration sending shoots of pleasure up and down his spine. The table is a lost cause where he sinks his hook into the wood, and he can’t resist slipping his hand below the table to tangle through her hair.

Gods, she’s good at this, switching between shallow bobs and trailing her tongue around his head and deeper advances in a way that brings him to the edge at lightning speed and somehow keeps him there in an exhilarating way he doesn’t understand and almost wishes she’d quit. His arousal has been simmering all night, and he’s reaching a point of desperation, craving release.

As it turns out, Emma is only too happy to oblige once he hisses “ _please”,_ somehow managing to hear over the thunderous beat of his pulse. One more deep bob until he hit the back of her throat, and he’s gone, spilling his seed in her mouth and practically shuddering at the feel of her swallowing around his cock, sucking him dry.

“Still think you’re winning?” she murmurs in his ear once she’s slithered back up to his side.

“Let’s call it a tie,” he responds. “Now let’s get out of here, and I’ll be sure to _really_ even the score.”


	2. PMS-induced horniness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> And how about exactly what you're going through? PMS horny Emma, ravishing a very willing Killian?

There are things Killian expects on a Monday: a day of work, lunch with his lovely wife, dropping by the Jolly after his shift at the station, and then coming home to a quiet evening then as everyone recuperates from the day.

What he doesn’t expect is to come home and find Emma already sprawled naked on their bed with one hand groping at her breast and the other furiously working at her clit.

(Not that he’s fool enough to complain; a man takes his blessings where he can find them, and this is a _much_ more enjoyable what to spend an evening than watching the television box.)

“I see you got started without me,” he comments, already toeing at his socks and working at his vest buttons as quick as his fingers can manage. 

Emma’s eyes open from where they’d been squeezed shut, locking to his gaze in a heartbeat. “Oh thank god you’re here,” she breathes - more like gasps with the breathless tone her voice has acquired in her arousal. “I need you. _Now.”_

Ah. It’s that time of the month. You’d think he’d learn by now, how to recognize when Swan was about to start her courses, but somehow it manages to sneak up on them both usually. If there’s one think Killian has learned, however, it’s that the associated hormones send Emma’s sex drive… well, into overdrive.

(Again, not that he’s complaining. There’s far worse problems to have.)

Emma doesn’t take well to teasing, not in this state, but Killian feels like testing that boundary all the same in a touch of mischief. “It seems like you’re getting on well enough yourself,” he comments, nodding to where her fingers still rub and stroke, the hand that was at her breast now coming down to tease along her entrance. “Why don’t you make yourself come, first, and then I’ll give you what you need?”

“Feels better when it’s you, when it’s your fingers,” Emma gasps. She’s close, though; Killian can see it in the way that her hips rock in a frantic rhythm. 

“I know sweetheart, I know,” he croons. Just the jeans and the underwear left, and he’s free and bare. “But just do it for me. You look so lovely like this, with your own fingers fucking that pretty cunt. You’re almost there, aren’t you?”

“Uh huh,” she barely manages to gasp out. Her shoulders are pressing back against the mattress now, trying to arch even further into her own touch.

“Then just let go. Let go, let me see how beautiful you look when you come. Imagine it’s my fingers on your nub, my cock stroking those walls, me bringing you right to the edge.” As Killian talks, he moves closer and closer until he’s right between her legs, a captive audience to every movement and wet noise and desperate sound falling from her mouth. “Imagine it’s me doing all those things to you, and _come_.” 

And with a keening cry of relief, Emma does, her mouth dropping open in ecstasy even as her eyes squeeze even tighter shut. 

As Emma’s hands fall limp as her body relaxes again, Killian grabs them back up to suck her fingers clean. Her eyes fly open at the sensation, and her free hand claws at his back. “Get up here,” she demands, pulling him up over her body. “I want more. God, Killian, I just want more, so much more, give me –”

But she never finishes that sentence as Killian drives into her, her slickness easing his way in the most glorious manner as Emma instead cuts into a loud moan. “Like that?” he growls, forcing himself to hold still just a moment longer. “Is this what you wanted?”

“ _Yes_ ,” she keens, before again: “ _More_.”

And he’s only too happy to give it to her.

Days like today call for a quick pace, no more teasing or drawing it out. There’s only one thing that will satisfy her, and that’s a quick, hard fuck. Killian angles to find that sensitive spot along her walls with the practice of a man who’s done it before, and lowers his head to mouth and suck along Emma’s neck. Watching the erotic show she put on for him has left him almost painfully hard, and it’s probably a good thing it won’t take Emma long to reach climax again as he’s right there alongside her.

Sure enough, once Emma comes with another little cry, Killian spills himself with a grunt, the pull of her clenching muscles too divine to withstand. Carefully, he pulls out only to flop down alongside his wife in bed.

“Did that satisfy my lady?” he asks in a breathless tone to match her own.

“It did.” She pauses. “At least until round two.”

He can’t wait.


	3. Bed-sharing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> optomisticgirl asked:
> 
> Bed sharing. I don’t care the situation - just some good old bed sharing that leads to *wiggle eyebrows*

Killian could _kill_ Ruby and Graham for choosing tonight of all fucking times to finally get their shit together. 

Not that he’s upset that they’ve finally given into that attraction; it’s been a long time coming. But it does leave him in his current unfortunate bunking situation: lying awake next to one Emma Swan, secret love of his life. 

It had seem like such a good idea at the time: saving money at this law enforcement conference by sharing costs and beds, Emma with Ruby and himself with Graham. But that had been before Ruby had a few too many glasses of wine from her purloined drink tickets and launched herself at Graham, ending with a sock on the door and Killian sexiled from his hotel room. 

Emma had been kindness itself, offering sanctuary in her room and forbidding him from sleeping on the floor. “We’re both adults,” she had said, and Killian had agreed at the time.

That was before Emma started moaning in her sleep, however.

Killian is only a man, and _especially_ only a man who’s been head over heels for his lovely blonde colleague since day one. And a lovesick man such as himself can’t be blamed for the reaction his body has to what sounds like a _very_ pleasant dream that the object of his affection is having.

The squirming was bad enough, and more than enough to distract Killian from his best efforts to imagine Leroy the local drunk in a speedo so as to smother any arousal that dared creep in. The squirming turns to writhing, however, and it’s all a lost cause. Every drop of blood rushes towards his cock as he tries desperately not to make contact with any part of Emma’s body. It’s okay, it’ll pass, her dream will end, he’s just got to wait this out and –

“ _Killian_.”

That’s a shock - enough to make him tense up, just in time for Emma’s arm to collide with his and startle her out of sleep. 

“Killian?” she mumbles, squinting into the dark. “What are…”

“Were you dreaming about me?” he interrupts.

Even in the dark, he can see Emma blush. “No.”

“Are you sure? Because it sounded like you were.”

“Well I wasn’t,” she insists. Stubborn thing, his Swan. He loves that about her - most of the time.

“I don’t mean to press the issue, but it sounded like you moaned my name, and a man just wonders…”

“Fine, I was, are you happy?” she huffs.

“Eh. You see, I was already dealing with, shall we say, a not-so-little problem, and hearing you in the midst of a late-night fantasy… well, let’s just say it didn’t exactly help,” he confides. 

Emma’s eyes widen in realization for a moment, before her face settles into something close to a smirk. “Is that so?” she replies as her hand lands on his waist, ready to start inching down. 

“Indeed. So tell me Swan, in this dream of yours… what was I doing for you?”

“You couldn’t handle it,” she tells him, even as her fingers play with his waistband.

“Try me.”

“You started at my neck,” she finally replies. “Nibbling and sucking all those little places I like, especially that spot behind my ear.”

Killian shifts to do so, kissing and sucking until he draws a pleased hum out of Emma. “And what about my hands, love?”

“You started at my chest, playing with my nipples,” she continues, ending on a breathy stutter as he does just that.

“And then?”

“And then you moved down to suck at my nipples and - oh _god.”_

_“_ And?”

“You started stroking me down there.”

She’s already wet and ready when Killian moves his fingers through her folds, just the way he’s always dreamed. “And then?”

“I woke up,” she gasps. 

“Then I’ll take it from here,” he murmurs against her chest.

It’s hard to believe he’s not dreaming as Killian feathers his thumb across her clit and sinks a finger into her heat. The noises she makes are just enough to convince him, though, making him double down on his efforts in order the make her gasp and moan even louder. 

He can feel how close she is, her walls just starting to flutter around his fingers, when Emma pulls him back up. “I want you,” she gasps, shoving him onto his back and attacking his basketball shorts with a desperate haste. 

“Then take me. I’m yours.”

That makes her pause for a moment. “You really mean that?”

Killian shrugs as best he can from his sprawled position on his back. “Almost since that first moment.”

Instead of replying, Emma straddles his hips and sinks down onto his cock, enveloping his member in tight, warm heat and making Killian groan loudly. That would be enough of an answer - even more than he had ever dreamed of - but Emma makes sure to meet his eyes and tell him four words that change everything.

“Then I’m yours too.”

She moves slowly atop him at first, drawing out every moan with every downward thrust, but the pace quickens until she’s riding them both to the edge of release, Killian just barely hanging on. Emma’s brow is furrowed in a way that makes him think she’s looking for just a last little something, so he returns his attention to her clit and brings up his knees to thrust beneath her, changing the angle just enough to elicit happy mewls. They finally sail into climax just like that, and Emma collapses into a boneless, sated heap on his chest.

“Was this a one time thing?” he asks tentatively as they both try and catch their breath.

Emma chuckles. “Definitely not.”

Thank god for Ruby and Graham after all.


	4. Disaster sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "distant-rose asked:
> 
> You know by now, I'm fucking evil and live for imperfect disaster smut, so give me a lockjaw fic, ya betch"
> 
> I’m so not shocked you sent this. Setting it in that same “Not All That (But Has Potential)” verse that I wrote for you back in January because why the fuck not, fully commit to a disaster sex verse.

Not to blow her own horn - all puns _fully_ intended - but Emma thinks she’s pretty good at giving blow jobs.

She’s perfected her technique over the years, exactly how hard and fast to suck to bring any man to his knees. It’s a power trip, kind of - the way she can make any macho man completely fall apart, reduced to gasps and all other matter of unintelligible noises. 

Killian Jones is no exception. 

Killian is shameless in his appreciation of her efforts, a soundtrack of moans bouncing off the walls of his apartment that makes Emma grin around his cock, utterly pleased with herself. One of his hands has made it into her hair, tugging at the strands in a way that she’s shocked her hair binder has withstood. She likes it, though; the knowledge of how thoroughly she’s wrecking him was more than enough to start arousal simmering in her veins, and Killian tugging on her hair only heightens is.

The problem is, she gets cocky. Pun less intended.

It’s stupid, because she’s not some college sorority girl just learning how to give a blow job for the first time. She knows to mix it up between hands and mouths to give her jaw a bit of a break. But in the rush of watching Killian fall apart above her, she forgets, too caught up in trying to draw out ever last noise of pleasure.

It strikes suddenly - the tell-tale clenching of her jaw muscles, as if they’re protesting being held open for so long by all contracting all at once. Emma squeaks out a pained noise and immediately retreats from her attempts to take every inch of him within her mouth.

To his credit, that snaps Killian out of his pleasure immediately. His eyes snap open and search out where Emma crouches, cradling her jaw. “Are you alright, love?” 

If it wasn’t such a stupid question, Emma would be touched by the amount of concern coloring his voice. As it is, she just shoots him a baleful look.

“Yeah, I guess that was kind of a stupid thing to ask,” he mutters, before reaching to pull Emma back up his body. “C’mere, love, let me help.”

That’s what gets her - the way he tenderly massages the join of her jaw, trying to coax the muscles back into relaxation. 

_Holy shit, she loves him_. 

They’ve only been officially dating for a few months, and this is such a ridiculous time to come to the realization - while dealing with _lockjaw_ , seriously, what the fuck - but that’s the truth. He cares for her more than anyone else ever has, and makes sure to _show_ it - not just like this, but every day, with her favorite pastries and silly little texts and everything else. 

Under his gentle, warm pressure, her muscles stop seizing, and Emma takes the moment to try and work out her jaw. Still, Killian peers at her in concern. 

“Are you feeling better, Swan?” It’s almost unbearably gentle, just like the man she’s learned he can be. 

“Fine,” she croaks, before nodding towards his crotch. “The blow job is kind of off the table now, but I can…”

“Don’t worry about it, love,” Killian interrupts. “I think that now, I’d rather just have a cuddle.”

Works for her. Call her weird, but something about lockjaw just kills the mood. Now that she’s had her epiphany, this would probably be the time to tell him, but instead Emma just curls into Killian’s side. “Thank you for being so good to me,” she murmurs into his collarbone. It’s close enough.

“Of course, darling. It’s nothing less than you deserve.”

She’ll tell him tomorrow.


	5. Interrupted Mornings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> So, an interrupted morning leads to a frustrated Killian all day at work with Emma. Emma knows this and decides to have some fun with it and teases him throughout the day. She wants to see how much he can take before he gives in and has his way with her. Maybe they make it home, maybe they don't :)

“Do you have any idea,” Killian asks, accentuating the question with a thrust of his traitorously clothed hips, “what you’ve been doing to me all day long?”

“Maybe a little,” Emma replies in a sultry purr. “But why don’t you show me?”

They’d been interrupted that morning. Again. Like they aren’t married people who deserve a bit of privacy and to not have his wife’s parents let themselves in the front door at least once a week. 

“We’re changing the locks,” Emma muttered at Killian moved to take yet _another_ cold shower.

“You said that last time. And the time before. And the time before that.”

“But I mean it this time,” she insisted.

He doubted it.

Maybe he could have held out until tonight if it had just been an interrupted morning; he’s done it before, and the gods know he’ll do it again. But he could swear that Emma’s been taunting him all day at the station. Any time she passes his desk, she trails a hand down his arm or across his shoulders. Every search through a low drawer is accompanied by an exaggerated bend at the waist, showing the lovely curve of her arse to its best advantage. Even her blouse seems unnaturally sheer and low cut; the lace trim of her camisole is almost reminiscent of lingerie, and it’s driving him _nuts_. Whatever arousal he had tried to tamp down that morning is back with a vengeance, and he doesn’t intend to deny it any longer.

When Emma rises from her latest exaggerated search of the file cabinet, Killian makes his move, caging her against the metal tower. “Do you feel that, love?” he asks, rutting against her backside. “I’ve been hard for you since this morning. You’re a terrible tease, Swan.”

“I know,” she breathes, rutting back against his groin, “but I wanted you. I wanted you this morning, and I want you now, just like this.”

“My naughty princess.” Killian nips at the back of her neck in emphasis, causing Emma to moan and arch into it. “Now be a good girl, and lock the doors for me.” With those words, he steps back to work at his belt. Emma hurries to comply. The doors bar themselves with a wave of her hand, the air shimmering with traces of her magic. “Now brace yourself against the cabinet.” After what feels like an eternity, he manages to shove his pants and undergarments down his thighs, just far enough for his cock to spring free. 

There’s still the matter of Emma’s clothing, however - not that it will be much of an obstacle. His clever girl must have been planning this all day, since her usual jeans have been noticeably swapped for a black corduroy skirt and no tights to speak of. Wonderfully convenient for his purposes. Killian roughly hikes the skirt up to reveal skimpy underwear and bare cheeks. “ _Such_ a naughty thing,” he murmurs. “Tell me, Swan, have you been wanting this all day? Have you been wet for me all morning?” As he crowds up against her back, Killian can already feel how her thong in soaked in her juices where his cock brushes against her. 

“Uh huh,” she manages to gasp out. Her hips have started rutting backwards in search of friction.

“You’ve been a tease all day, my love,” he admonishes, “but lucky for you, I’m feeling generous. So just keep those pretty hands right there on the cabinet, and I’ll give you everything you want.”

Emma nods eagerly as Killian works the satiny scrap down her legs, just far enough to be out of his way and keep her legs just the right distance apart.

“I’ll be good,” she promises.

“I know you will.” And without any more teasing - lord knows they’ve had enough of that - Killian sinks into her wet heat.

She’s so wonderfully tight like this, the stance of her legs creating an even more delicious friction than usual. That might be the desperation, too; lord knows he’s been on the edge all day, and it sounds like she might have been there with him. 

“Give it to me fast,” she pants. “Fast and hard.”

Killian is only too happy to comply. Gods know he doesn’t have the patience for slow right now. With his hand clutching at her hip, just the right side of rough, he reaches his hook around to brush against her clit. They’ve long since learned that the cold metal brings her close to climax like nothing else, and with his own completion tingling at the base of his spine, time is of the essence. Sure enough, Emma cries out in pleasure at the first touch of the smooth steel. In a last desperate attempt to send her over the edge before him, Killian slips his hand into her blouse and past that damned lacy camisole to tug at her nipples.

That’s all it takes, as Emma goes flying into climax with a final loud cry. Killian is right behind her as her clenching walls pull him right along with.

It takes a moment for them to catch their breath, and Killian pants heavily against Emma’s neck. “Is this what you had in mind when you started your teasing, love?”

“Better than,” she chuckles. “And if you want to take an early lunch, I’ll make it even better.”

He’d be a fool to refuse, and Killian Jones is no fool. 


	6. Outtake - The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stahlop asked:
> 
> Can you do a smutty outtake from The Perils of Firemen and the Food Network? Maybe their first time together or Killian almost gets hurt and Emma has to make sure everything is in tact.

“Something smells delicious.” The words are mostly spoken into her neck where Killian nuzzles her pulse, not that Emma minds. 

“Bacon wrapped tenderloin,” she replies proudly. She just might get the hang of this cooking thing yet. “But I just put it in the oven, so you must have a really good nose.”

“Maybe I wasn’t talking about dinner.” The words are punctuated by a nip to the earlobe, his teeth delicately tugging on the flesh.

_Oh._

_“_ Well in that case…” Emma turns with a grin, “we’ve got 45 minutes before I’ve got to take that out.”

“Whatever shall we do?” he singsongs. 

“I’ve got a few ideas.”

And she does, she really, _really_ does, starting with pulling her boyfriend into a hard kiss. There’s no preamble, no gradual lead-in to the exchange, just two mouths each trying to devour the other. Just what she wants right now. Give her tongues and teeth and the best kind of overstimulation, and keep the soft and gentle for another day.

By the time Killian’s committed to reaching for her breasts, squeezing and kneading through her t-shirt and bra, Emma’s backed up to lean against the counter and drawn Killian along with her. It’s the work of a moment to hop up on the counter and wrap her legs around around his hips to draw Killian flush against her, the bulge in his pants rubbing against where her core is still covered in her leggings in the best way.

“You want it like this?” he grunts. “Right here?”

“Right here.” Quickly, Emma whips the shirt over her head to reveal the bra underneath. Pale pink lace and a perfect fit. _Nice_. When she meets Killian’s eyes again, he’s just staring with a glazed over look. “Well?” she demands impatiently. “Are you going to catch up or what?”

That kicks him into gear. It makes a pretty good show, Emma thinks as she leans back on her elbows, watching him strip out of his plaid and undershirt.

“We’re even now,” he tells her with a devious glint in his eye, “but I’ve got something else in mind.”

Something else, it turns out, is stripping off Emma’s leggings and underwear before kneeling down, right at eye level with her seeping folds. 

“Hold on, love,” he winks as he brings his hands to press her thighs further apart. “We’re just getting started.”

The first swipe of his tongue is a marvel, a delicious mixture of the heat of his breath and the cool of his saliva in cool air. It’s easy to give herself over to everything he’s doing to her, the way he alternates between quick flicks at her clit and deep thrusts of his tongue into her cunt, mixing it up just enough to keep her guessing and on edge. When he switches to sucking on her nub as his fingers thrust inside, she finally comes with a cry of relief.

“Get up here,” she rasps, clawing at his shoulders and upper arms. “Finish what you’ve started.”

And boy, does he deliver. Emma’s position on the edge of the counter leaves her without leverage, but there’s something thrilling about being forced to put all her satisfaction in his hands that still manages to heighten the sensations. Killian drives into her with short thrusts that manage to unerringly find that perfect spot within her. She probably should feel sorrier about the way her fingernails claw at his shoulders, but it feels _so_ damn good, that she just can’t muster it.

(Besides, if the way Killian growls when she digs her heels into his ass is any indication, he doesn’t exactly mind the way she marks him.)

Her climax hits her by surprise, and Emma can only gasp for breath as Killian grunts through his own completion. God, what an appetizer round. And they’ve still got a few minutes left on the timer.

“I feel like I should be making jokes about you spoiling your appetite,” Emma quips, making Killian snort.

“I think I can still handle some some dinner,” he replies, before leaning in to whisper a last few words in her ear. “And maybe even a second helping of… _dessert_.”


	7. Outtake - If I Could See Your Face Once More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> A scene from somewhere in if I could see your face one more time please

Killian never expected Emma to come for him. Death has always been, to the best of his knowledge, a rather permanent state. She believes it doesn’t have to be, though, and Killian finds himself inclined to believe her.

(After all, he’s yet to see her fail.)

He should be sleeping, he knows. It will take a lot of rest for his body to heal from Hades’ cruel treatment - or at least as close to healing as he can get in the land of the dead - and there’s no telling when he’ll get another chance. Tomorrow they’ll have to hit the ground running. But every time he closes his eyes, he’s still trapped in chains underground, but this time without Emma to rescue him and bring him hope. It’s hard to resign himself to an inevitable nightmare when he could stay awake and keep marveling at once again holding Emma within his arms - the closest thing he’ll ever find to heaven. 

His wakefulness as Emma slumbers on allows him to explore, anyways. She’d told him only a few hours ago about the baby - _his_ child, as if he deserves such a thing - and he’s still a little in shock. It feels more real, somehow, to lie here in the dark with his front to her back and the fingers of his hand trailing along the small swell of her stomach. Killian has long since learned every inch of his love’s body, every scar and perfect curve, but this is mapping new geography, and for the best reason of all. 

He’s apparently not nearly as subtle as he thinks, however, and he can feel Emma starting to wake up just as his fingers start climbing up her ribcage. He doesn’t intend it salaciously, believe it or not - it’s just that there’s differences to catalog here, too, and he’s nothing if not a thorough man. That doesn’t mean he’s not affected by certain physical reactions when Emma arches in a stretch as she wakes and her lovely, plump arse rubs against his groin. He’s only human, after all.

“What are you up to?” she mumbles, voice still clouded with sleep.

“Nothing, love,” he whispers back. “Go back to sleep.”

“Mmhmm.” Silence reigns for a few moments, and Killian lets his fingers trail along her stomach again beneath where her hand clasps his arm. The quiet only lasts so long, however, before Emma breaks it again. “What if I don’t want to, though?”

“What’s that, love?”

“What if I don’t want to go back to sleep?” Determinedly, Emma moves his hand further down her body until his fingers tease at the waistband of her underwear. 

Killian hums as his hand slips beneath the elastic, his digits reaching her dampening folds. “Then I suppose we’ll have to find something else to do.”

He’s of a mind tonight to take things slow. It’s not something they’ve really had time to indulge in before; so many of their trysts had been rushed affairs in stolen moments aboard the Jolly Roger or in rare solitary moments where they had her parents’ apartment to themselves. The first opportunity they had to really take their time was in the middlemist field in Camelot, where almost certainly their child was conceived. Tonight, though, they have the house in the Underworld fully to themselves, and Killian intends to take full advantage.

His fingers stroke through her folds and along her opening with a careful surety as he applies his lips to the back of her neck, kissing and sucking to slowly bring Emma’s arousal to a fever point. He easily moves up to circle her clit with teasing fingers every few strokes as his seduction progresses, alternating with teasing dips of his fingers within her sheath, all to slowly drive her crazy. It’s working, too; where Emma’s back in pressed against him, he can feel every fluttery hitch of her breath, every stutter sigh. He keeps at it, slowly increasing his tempo until Emma’s audibly moaning, impossibly loud in the silence of the house. He doesn’t realize how he’s rutting against Emma’s arse until she abruptly reaches her hand around to grasp at his own rear and heighten the contact.

“More,” she gasps, barely about a whisper, barely audible above the pounding of his pulse in his ears. “Take me, Killian, let me feel it.”

The rush to strip Emma’s underwear down her legs, and then his own, is the fastest he’s moved all night. They could adjust position, but there’s something achingly intimate about the way they’re already aligned on their sides that Killian doesn’t want to destroy. Instead, he merely lifts and shifts her leg to slide his cock inside her burning body, enveloping each other in a perfect, intimate embrace.

Even despite a near desperate arousal, Killian manages to keep the pace at a slow burn - a steady press and withdrawal, in and out, that will slowly drive them both insane. Or not so slowly. It seems simultaneously half a breath later and half an eternity, but Emma’s arching back into his body to draw him even deeper within her, and it just feels so damn good, _so_ damn good. Her breast is plump and full within his palm, and her cunt is tight and wet and possibly burning him alive, scorching him down to nothing just to build him back up again. And he’s only got the one hand, but he’s got an arm too to pull Emma as close into his embrace as humanly possible without absorbing her completely, and Emma has hands of her own to rub at her nub and pull at his hair and, and, and -

They come within moments of each other, the sensations far too strong to truly tell who detonates first. All Killian knows is that it feels like some kind of explosion draining him physically and emotionally and maybe spiritually, everything that makes up himself poured into her body as tribute. 

Killian feels like he can barely withdraw from Emma’s body, can’t possible muster the energy to do so, but somehow manages it anyways. He should say something loving here, or witty, but he’s suddenly overcome by an exhaustion he didn’t think he had any hope of reaching tonight. All he can manage is a satisfied hum and a tender kiss to the back of Emma’s neck.

“Sleep, my love,” he faintly hears her whisper. 

And somehow, he does. 


	8. Extension - A Drowning Soul Will Clutch at Any Staw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thejollyroger-writer asked:
> 
> *cheering* mermaid smut, mermaid smut, mermaid smut! ---sincerely, your friend with a problem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, darling!

He’d promised her they’d see the world, and that’s exactly what they’re doing.

This week: Agrabah. A man can make a fortune selling wares in these markets, he’s learned over the years. Besides, it’s a chance to search out magical bracelets he’s heard tale of that would allow Emma the freedom of scales for a short while. Even after her curse breaking, Emma seems to feel the call of the sea deep within her soul.

It’s a good thing she’s aligned herself with a pirate.

Today, however, business and the sea can wait. Instead, Killian has brought Emma some place where they can explore aquatic pleasures of a different sort: the city’s famous bathhouses. At this time of day, hardly anyone else is around. They’ve found themselves in a refreshingly cool pool all by themselves, a welcome respite from the heat outside, as light softly dappled down from intricately latticed windows. It should be relaxing; anyone else would find it so.

Instead, Killian can’t keep his hand to himself.

“Someone could see!” Emma hisses in warning, but she makes no other move to stop Killian’s hand where it’s now wandering down to squeeze at her ass. If she truly wishes, he’ll stop, but there’s no indication of such. Indeed, if he’s not mistaken, Emma’s enthralled by the semi-public nature of it all.

“No one’s here,” Killian reminds her. Gods, but she looks beautiful, almost glowing under the soft light. Every place her skin meets his feels scorching hot in the cooled water and feeds his arousal, heightened further by the seductive flow of the water around their bodies. “We can stop if you’re not comfortable, but doesn’t that just make it more exciting? You and I, making love right here in in the pool, knowing that someone can enter at any moment?” As he speaks, Killian’s fingers trail back around Emma’s hip to burrow into her soft curls, eliciting a pleasurable shiver as he searches for her nub.

Emma’s moan is answer enough, but the way she spins around to capture his lips in a sudden kiss, sending waves rippling through the water, really drives the point home. It feels like diving in headfirst - no preface, no lead up, just straight into _take_ and _devour_ \- but Killian is only too happy to concede. While their tongues tangle, he eagerly urges Emma’s legs to part and straddle him on the submerged bench, aligning her center to grind along his cock just so. 

As he pulls her closer to rub against him with greater friction, Emma breaks away from their kiss on another low moan. “We’ll have to be quick,” she manages to gasp out between thrusts of her hips.

“Are you sure?” Killian teases. “I’ve a mind to draw this out.” Not that it’ll be necessary; even in the water, he can feel slickness starting to collect between her folds. “Come like this for me, first, and I’ll give it to you. As fast as you want, as hard as you want.”

Emma doesn’t say anything in response to that, but her legs shift ever so slightly further open, allowing her to grind deeper and harder. Quickly, Killian uses the water’s buoyancy to shift Emma from his pelvis to his thigh. Already, he’s unfathomably hard, spur on by the twin sensations of Emma and the water along his member. 

Before long, Emma’s breath comes in stuttering gasps, a sure sign that she’s close to her climax. Securing Emma on his lap with his left arm around her back, Killian turns his attention to where her nipples just crest the surface of the water, now sent into a flurry of small waves by their motions. Moments later, the ruby red bud is within his mouth, and with a few hard sucks and a careful graze of his teeth, Emma sails over the edge with a cry of relief.

That relief is short-lived, however, as she comes back to herself. “You said as fast as I want,” she reminds him as she readjusts to cradle his cock again between her thighs, “and I want it _now_.” 

And then it’s _his_ turn to gasp and moan as Emma grasps his cock and guides him to the heart of her heat, sinking down onto him in a smooth move. The contrasting feelings of hot and cold are almost overwhelming, overstimulating in the best way, and they’ve barely gotten started.

“Now, _move,”_ she commands.

And he does. Like he has a choice but to thrust up to meet her downwards motions when his entire body screams for Killian to chase his release. Emma’s nails rake down his back as she moves atop him - powerful, fierce, fully in control of her own pleasure, and possibly his too. 

Even with her commands, there’s not much space for Killian to move where he sits on this ledge. The best he can manage is to brace his back against the ceramic tiles behind him and pray that the jerks of his hips are stroking her in the right way. Ideally, he’d be stroking that special spot along her walls the way he’s able to in other positions, but that seems too much to hope for. Emma will have to do the work there. To make up, he reaches back down to rub above where they’re joined, hoping the pressure on her nub will be just enough to send Emma into orgasm before he’s pulled into blissful oblivion.

And it works. Barely. Killian manages a few more limited thrusts after Emma cries out and collapses atop him, but it’s a close thing, the call of his own release too strong to hold back. In the moments immediately following, the cool water feels amazing, but as the sweat from their exertions dries, The chill begins to feel more bracing.

“I told you no one would walk in,” Killian murmurs into her blonde curls. The braids are gone, but the gentle wave he’d first noticed in the brig remains and continues to enchant him.

“Fine, you were right,” she grumbles right back. There’s a smile tugging at her mouth though. “Now what do you say we find some place a little warmer?”

It’s an excellent idea. And who knows? Maybe he can talk her into round two in one of the heated pools. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on tumblr - I'm @shireness-says.


End file.
